


hit me (i wont break, even if you do)

by MayWilder



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Abbie keener - Freeform, Angst, Depression, Family, Found Family, Gen, anger issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:06:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayWilder/pseuds/MayWilder
Summary: “He called,” she rasps, nails digging into Peter’s skin hard enough to draw blood. Her voice is dry and hoarse from disuse, but she pushes on. “He called this morning, to try and apologize. Said he’s gotten help. Help. Says he sorry. As if—as if it changes what he did to us!”God, Abby is angry. She yells again, seemingly trying to expel every bit of negative energy from her body. Peter holds her and cries with her, in disbelief that someone could ever cause their child this kind of pain. Peter’s seen the evidence of Henry Keener’s abuse before. He’s kissed at Harley’s scars and wiped away tears after a particularly bad dream, but the other boy has never been like this. This anger, this heartbreak, is a different level of pain that Peter can only imagine. He’s lost a lot in his life, yes, but he’s never had the two people who were supposed to take care of him fail so spectacularly.He decides, right then and there, that he will not fail Abbie Keener.





	hit me (i wont break, even if you do)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PeachyKeener](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachyKeener/gifts).

> This is a gift for peachy-keener, because Bb wanted a story about Abbie and Peter; I used their general characterization of Abbie Keener, so this girl is entirely from looking through their tumblr. It's veers a little bit because I can only seem to write Peter one way, but anyhoo. Its for Bb, hope the rest of y'all enjoy a lil <3

When Peter Parker first meets Abbie Keener, he doesn’t know how to react to her. 

Harley turns eighteen and Tony immediately grants him an inheritance as the Stark heir. He gets custody of his little sister, moves her to New York, into a new apartment, and out of the shell of bad memories that is their mother’s household. Peter goes to the apartment to meet his boyfriend’s little sister for the first time and…well, he doesn’t know how to react.

Abbie is all silent fury. Extremely distrusting of male figures, she watches Tony with a hesitant eye as he moves around a room, and keeps her hand twisted into the back of Harley’s sweatshirt when she thinks there’s nobody looking. When people are looking, her hands ball so tightly that her knuckles turn white and her fists shake. Peter tries not to pay attention to the angry set of her jaw, the fact that she does not speak at all, or the way that she categorizes his every move. Being around her is so incredibly hard because his senses are on fire. 

The thing is, she isn’t a perceived threat. 

She’s something he needs to _protect. _

There’s a worry, an itch under Peter’s skin that says he needs to be the one in front of her. She needs to be within his earshot at all times, needs to be in his line of sight or easy accessible _because he_ _knows_, intrinsically, that there is something fragile in her perceptions of the world. Abbie Keener is in a desperate amount of pain and Peter is internally screaming to protect her from the source of the pain. 

It’s just. It’s just that_ he knows_. Knows why she hurts, knows why she’s got cigarette burns on her shoulder blades and a collarbone that’s never healed right. He knows that Abbie and Harley’s father was a terrible man who did terrible things, and she’s never going to forget that. The problem is that he’s gone. 

Well, it’s certainly not a problem. 

It’s just that Peter can’t physically protect her because he can’t change the past. 

“You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart,” Harley tells him when Peter finally confesses to his stress. “Abbie needs time and therapy, but you can’t fix her. None of us really can.”

“I don’t think she needs fixing, exactly,” Peter huffs. “I just wish there was something I could do. She’s always scared, Harls, always hurting. And I need to do something.”

“We can get her help and let her adjust, but more than just being here for her…” Harley shrugs. “There’s not much to do.”

At the time, Peter nods and moves on to his school work. 

Yet…Peter Parker has never been anything like patient or accepting of things that might be in his power to change. 

So, the next time he walks into Harley and Abbie’s apartment, he’s got a plan. 

Abbie sees him and immediately bristles. 

Peter’s heart aches.

“I know Harley isn’t here,” he tells her in the quiet voice he’s come to use around her. “But I wanted to see if you’d like to go somewhere with me?”

Her slow blink is his immediate answer. 

“Just hear me out.” Peter holds his hands up in a ‘surrender’ sort of pose. Keeping his voice steady and quiet, he goes on. “I know you’ve got a lot of untapped rage, okay? That you tried boxing, but your coach said you were too violent to continue.”

Abbie’s mouth twists into an angry snarl and he swallows nervously. Telling a girl that she’s too violent probably isn’t the best way to go about things. So, he rushes to explain.

“No, Abbie,_ listen_—I’m indestructible, okay? You can’t hurt me. I thought maybe I could be your sparring partner. You know how to do it correctly, safely, but…you can go as hard as you like. We can train together. Sweat out some of that anger without any restrictions?”

Her shoulders ease a bit, but her eyes narrow. 

“You have to find a channel, Abbie,” Peter tells her. “But you also need to do what makes you feel safe. So train with me. As long as you don’t hurt yourself, you don’t have to be disciplined. Unleash. I won’t take that away from you.”

Abbie stares at him. It’s a long, heavy moment where Peter’s almost worried to breathe because he thinks one wrong move and she’ll reach for the nearest object and throw it at him. He doesn’t want to go back to square one and is really worried he’s done exactly that, because she’s just…continuing to stare, long and hard, as she clenches her jaw and mulls it over. 

A short nod, a spin of her heels, and Peter knows this has been a victory. 

Peter starts picking Abbie up from school and taking her to the gym at the tower. There’s a ring there, and privacy a public gym wouldn’t be able to offer. Abbie lets him wrap her hands properly, stretches with him, and then climbs into the ring. Peter has Friday play Tony’s workshop playlist…

And Abbie unleashes. 

Her form is flawless. If Peter didn’t have his senses to rely on, he would be on the floor every ten seconds. She comes after him, every jab of her fists somehow controlled and made out of fury at the same time. She could never compete professionally—she plays way too dirty—but she puts all of her strength into every move and uses Peter as a personal punching bag. He thinks he’s man enough to admit that, sometimes, it actually hurts when she punches him in the same spot on his shoulder six times in a row. 

He never says anything. 

They listen to music, and Abbie pummels him. 

About four weeks in, it’s a Saturday afternoon and Peter is headed to pick Abby up. He gets a warning text from his boyfriend that says She’s in a mood today. _I got an apple thrown at my head, so be careful please. I don’t want her to hurt herself._

Peter swallows, but drives on. 

Abbie is indeed in quite the mood. She marches down the steps of the apartment building and throws herself into Peter’s car with an angry huff. He doesn’t say anything, even though he normally talks to fill the silence of the car on the way there. Instead, he starts early with the music and drives a little bit faster than usual to get to the gym. The entire ride, Abbie’s knee bounces and her hands remain in fists. 

They arrive and Abbie wastes no time in wrapping up her hands and starting her stretches. Peter stretches alongside her, but worries over how his senses are firing a warning. For the first time in the year they’ve known each other, Peter recognizes that the urge to protect is not there but, but the urge to defend himself has replaced it. 

_Crazy Train_ echoes through the speakers, and Abbie gives it her all. 

Every move is as angry as Peter’s ever seen, and he gets so distracted by the raw look of fury in her eyes that his senses fail him. More than once, he doesn’t move or reposition quickly enough, and Abbie catches him in a weak spot—the ribs, the hip, curve of his chin—and it fucking hurts. _Crazy Train_ moves into_ Rock You Like a Hurricane_ and Abbie’s aggression follows. It takes Peter a moment, through ducking and dancing around the ring, to see that she’s got tears pouring down her face. 

He falters, and she gets him to the ground. 

Now, it’s out of control, and Peter debates stopping her. He could do it. Use his strength, pin her down until she stops trying to break him. But, as he rolls the idea over in his mind, he realizes it would completely defeat the purpose of his suggestion. He’s here so that she _doesn’t_ have to hold back. So that she can unleash whatever it is inside of her that’s screaming. Thus, he lets it happen, barely protecting himself and letting her hit him until the internal screaming starts actually spilling from her lips.

Every movement is punctuated by a sob or a scream, Peter notices. They alternate, whether she sounds like she’s pushing emotion out of her core or having it ripped from her chest, she _punches_ and _jabs_ and _sobs_ and _screams_ until her fists drop by her side in a fit of uncontrollable tears. Peter catches her before her knees hit the ground, letting her painful grip wrap around his arms so she can just…let it out. 

“He called,” she rasps, nails digging into Peter’s skin hard enough to draw blood. Her voice is dry and hoarse from disuse, but she pushes on. “He called this morning, to try and _apologize_. Said he’s gotten help. _Help_. Says he sorry. As if—_as if it changes what he did to us!_”

God, Abby is _angry_. She yells again, seemingly trying to expel every bit of negative energy from her body. Peter holds her and cries with her, in disbelief that someone could ever cause their child this kind of pain. Peter’s seen the evidence of Henry Keener’s abuse before. He’s kissed at Harley’s scars and wiped away tears after a particularly bad dream, but the other boy has never been like this. This anger, this heartbreak, is a different level of pain that Peter can only imagine. He’s lost a lot in his life, yes, but he’s never had the two people who were supposed to take care of him fail so spectacularly. 

He decides, right then and there, that he will not fail Abbie Keener. 

Now that Abbie’s speaking again, she agrees to talk to someone. 

Peter ends up being her ride to therapy. He takes her, directly after school, so she can talk to a therapist three times a week. From there, they go directly to the gym so she can “process.” Sometimes this looks like their original sessions; there’s silence and music, and maybe a few tears and bruises. Other times this looks like Abbie talking in circles, explaining what she learned or sharing revelations. Most times, though, it ends with Abbie on the floor of the ring, head leaning on Peter’s shoulder as she catches her breath and wipes at her tears. 

“I’m really tired of crying,” she says, six months into therapy and boxing. “I know I’ve been making progress. I’m down to one therapy visit a week, and only three sessions with you. This is progress.”

“And yet?” Peter asks, offering her a water bottle. 

“And _yet_, I just wish it were happening faster,” she answers. Her voice is smooth like Harley’s, accented and firm now that she’s gained the confidence to use it again. “Shouldn’t I be better now?”

“_Dude_,” Peter stresses the word. “Six months ago you were not speaking, and you couldn’t be in a room with Tony without being uncomfortable. Now you’re talking on the reg, enjoying family dinner night with everyone, and haven’t gotten into a fight at school in over three months. This progress you’ve made is insane, okay? Don’t feel bad because everyone’s healing looks different.”

Abbie sits up and rolls her eyes at him. “Never use the phrase ‘on the reg’ ever again. Got it, Parker?”

Peter grins, and he knows the message got through. 

* * *

It’s been two years since Harley brought Abbie to New York, and things could not be more different. Abbie’s made an insane amount of progress in the year and a half since Peter's been helping her. While she still struggles around new men in her life, and goes to therapy once a month, she looks and feels better. She’s physically strong, feels emotionally stable, and is approaching senior year without the ache of anger in her bones. 

Part of her wants to claim this victory for herself. She’s done the hard work. She’s been vulnerable. She’s looked into the deepest parts of herself and pulled them out to be fixed and/or replaced. She gets to take most of that credit. 

But she also knows that there’s a part of this journey that she owes to Peter. This boy, who loves her brother endlessly, looked at Abbie and thought ‘I am going to help her’ because he knew that he could. Peter Parker saw her pain, made her feel like it was okay for it to exist, and made her feel safe enough to get it into the open and do something about it. 

Peter Parker decided to love her and protect her.

Who else, aside from Harley, has ever done that? She can’t think of a teacher, a preacher, a doctor, or a parent who has ever chosen to love her because they could. And yet Peter did. Peter took care of her in ways Harley just…couldn’t, even when he tried. She and her brother just handled things differently—Harley got sad, she got mad. But Peter saw the anger, felt the frustration and the pain and let her fight it out of herself. He offered himself up as a vessel for her healing and she doesn’t think anyone else has tried to do something so selfless for her. 

It’s…it’s more than that, though. 

Peter loves her like Harley loves her in the small ways. He remembers all of her favorite things: candy, desserts, pizza, and Thai food order. He brings her books about various aspects of Greek and Roman mythology for her to study, encourages her to pursue her dreams of history. He tries to be in her corner, and shows up at the apartment to see her as often as he sees Harley. 

And _Harley._

Peter loves Harley as easily as he breathes.

Peter is the one who drags Harley out of the library at school and forces food into his belly. Who lures him to bed with hot chocolate and the promise of a back massage. Even in all the time he spends on school work, helping Abbie, and being Spider-Man, Peter ensures that Harley is loved and taken care of. She marvels at how he treats the both of them. 

Has anyone cared so much for the Keener siblings before?

The simple answer: no.

It’s for all this, that Abbie Keener loves Peter Parker. 

“Hey B, I’m home!” Peter draws her out of her thoughts by walking into the apartment, grocery bags lining his arms. He moved into the apartment six weeks ago, a big step in his and Harley’s relationship, and Abby thought it felt as natural as can be. 

“Need help?” she asks from her spot on the couch. 

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Got ‘em all. After I put them away, though, you wanna go for a walk? I saw a sign for a place over by the park that sells pizza, but better. It's kind of like subway, but with pizza. It sounds insane, right? I can already imagine all the different things I’m getting on it. I wonder if they’ll have pineapple. Most people yell at me for it, so I’m always scared that pizza places won’t have it, you know? Anyways, wanna go?”

Abbie smiles a little bit, and nods. “Yeah, okay.”

“Cool! We leave in five.”

The walk down the street isn’t long, but it’s just long enough for Abbie to notices the flyers around them as they go. Apparently, there’s a fundraiser for a local animal shelter in the park, and Abbie thinks about how her time volunteering at the shelter in Rose Hill. It’s been years, but she remembers loving how she was always surrounded by dogs. 

“Hey, Pete,” she says as they approach the corner of the street where the park is. “Do you think we could just…go look at the dogs?”

Peter, of course, beams and says yes. He loops their arms together and leads her across the road. They follow the signs, walking a little deeper into the park and taking no time in finding the fundraiser. Across a massive field are fences with what has to be over a hundred dogs and people milling around, a couple food trucks, a live band, and a fountain with kids running through it. Abbie catches sight of a little stand in the middle of the fences, lined with leashes and bags and toys. 

It’s a dog-lover heaven. 

“Hello!” a volunteer calls out, waving at the both of them. “Can I help you?”

“We wanted to look at some of the puppies in need of adoption,” Peter answers before Abby can say anything. 

“Well, we’re coming to the end of the day,” the volunteer says. “But we’ve got a few from a litter that are still haven't been claimed if you’d like to have a look.”

Abbie wordlessly turns to Peter, who smiles and motions her forward. She follows the volunteer to a fence towards the middle, where they motion towards a couple of puppies. 

Immediately, Abbie’s attention is caught by the sound of a yip. The puppy is smaller than all the rest—black, with white paws and a spotted tongue. They aren’t entirely sure what it is. Between the Pitbull-like face, the lab ears, and the white and black fur, she's seeing at least three different kinds of dogs. Peter comments that he truly can’t decide if its ugly or not. 

Abbie, however? Abbie is _enchanted_. She lets out a small gasp and kneels in front of the cage. When the puppy shoots up, it proves that its head is too big for its body as it wobbles for a moment before smushing its face against the fence. It’s tail wags, along with it’s entire butt, and Abbie giggles at the kisses she gets. She thinks she hears the volunteer speak, but doesn’t pull her focus away until Peter’s voice cuts through.

“What is it?” 

“We’ve just never seen Dexter so…friendly.”

“Is he usually mean?” Peter presses. Abbie can hear the wariness in his tone. 

“Not at all,” the volunteer assures him. “Just…unhappy. We haven’t been able to figure out what he’s not liking about the environment, but just kind of chalked it up to living the first two and half months of his life in this compound. He’s the runt, and a little weird looking, so all of his brothers and sisters were adopted right off the bat. He’s kind of alone now.”

Abbie’s heart cracks a little as the puppy nibbles on her fingers and rolls onto his back. 

“Hey, B,” Peter nudges her shoulder. “You want him?”

Abbie turns and looks up at him. There _might_ be tears in her eyes. “You mean it?”

“Yeah,” he says. “If you want him, we’ll adopt him.”

She launches up to Peter, arms around his neck. He laughs, but hugs her back. “Your brother is so going to kill me.”

The next hour is a blur. They get a lot of paperwork signed and buy loads of toys, as well as a few essentials. Peter carries everything while Abbie puts the leash on the puppy and leads him down the street to their house. Harley thankfully isn’t home yet, so Peter sets to work on dinner while Abbie tries to get Dexter settled. He’s adorable, bouncing around the house, a little wobbly with his too-big-head and wiggly butt, but he’s so perfect and Abbie can’t stop smiling. 

When dinner is in the oven and Peter comes into the living room, Abbie gives him a curious look. “Why did you buy Dexter for me, Petey?”

“What do you mean?” Peter shrugs, reaching a hand out to rub Dexter’s tiny ears. “It was obvious you liked him. There was…a soul connection, I could tell.”

“Dogs don’t have souls.”

“Don’t they?”

Abbie rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I can’t believe you’d sacrifice Harley getting mad at you.”

“Eh, I’ll just save the proposal for another night.”

Abbie stops petting Dexter to look up. Peter looks hesitant, but clearly intentional in his words because he scratches at the back of his neck. “Yeah. I was, uh, maybe thinking about asking him to marry me. If you know—you’re cool with that.” 

“Peter,” Abbie says slowly. “Are you asking me for my blessing?”

Peter colors. 

“_Oh my god_, you are!”

“It’s a southern tradition, I thought it was appropriate!” Peter cries. His volume worries Dexter, who tries to climb up his shirt as if he’s checking on Peter. “I just, this is a huge deal. I wanted to make sure you were okay with it.”

“Of course,” Abby takes Peter’s hand and squeezes it. “You’re the most important person in Harley’s life.”

“No, that’s ridiculous, you—

“Regardless,” Abbie cuts him off, a small smile still on her face. “I was prepared for him to become a Parker eventually. Just…”

Abbie trails off, and Peter must catch the charge in the air because he frowns and scoots closer. Dexter plops down in his lap, obviously exhausted from all the excitement, and Abbie focuses on his little toes. As usual, Peter is waiting for Abbie to meet him in the middle. So, she draws closer and brushes her curls out of her eyes. 

“I love you, Peter,” Abbie says softly. “And you and I have gotten so close, and I know you love Harley and you kind of only met me because of him, but our relationship is important to me. I guess I’m a little scared that if you guys married, I’ll kind of…_God, it’s so fucking selfish, I’m sorry_.”

“No, its not, it totally makes sense.” Peter pulls her chin up to look at him. “Abbie, I love you too. Is your brother my soulmate? For sure. But you are part of that, part of him, and I love it. I want to join him in taking care of you. I’m not trying to infringe on your's and Harley’s whole ‘us against the world thing’ but—

“Do it.”

Peter falters. “Do what?”

“Infringe. Promise that you’ll be part of us,” she whispers, scared. “By marrying Harley, promise you’ll be part of it. Us three against the world. _A family_.”

Peter looks like something is lodged in his throat. He swallows audibly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I promise, Abbie. I promise you.”

Harley and Peter get back from their honeymoon with an envelope, giggling and sliding it across the table to Abbie. 

“What is this?” she asks cautiously. “A check for a million dollars? Cause that would be great.”

“Just open it,” Harley rolls his eyes impatiently. 

Though she sticks her tongue out at the newlyweds, Abbie obeys and rips open the seal. Unfolding the paper, she rushes her eyes across the words and mumbles along, catching sight of social security numbers and birth dates, as well as a signature from both Harley and their mother. 

** _Name of applicant’s name being changed:_ ** _ Abigail Rose Keener _

** _New intended name of applicant:_ ** _ Abigail Rose Parker _

Abbie looks up, a knot forming in her chest. 

“I—” she coughs, glancing between Harley and Peter. “Are you serious?”

“Completely,” Harley grins. “We got Mama’s signature before we came back to New York, and as your guardian I can sign on it too and change your name.”

“If you want,” Peter says. “The three of us can be Parkers together.”

“Yeah,” Abbie sniffles, heart bursting with love for Peter Parker. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

_ Peter Parker did not fail Abbie Keener. _


End file.
